


End Slides

by Sinelaborenihil



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-01
Updated: 2020-08-01
Packaged: 2021-03-06 08:02:21
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25649992
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sinelaborenihil/pseuds/Sinelaborenihil
Summary: If Iron Bull and Dorian get into a relationship together, there's a possibility that post-game Dorian gets kidnapped by Venatori and rescued by Iron Bull and the Chargers. This is just a quick take on how it might have gone down.Everything belongs to Bioware!
Relationships: Iron Bull/Dorian Pavus
Kudos: 72





	End Slides

**Author's Note:**

> I also included the Reddit prompt: feverish mutterings, a cool cloth, worried thoughts, and a kiss on the forehead as I was finishing it up.

In his many years of working alongside his chief, The Iron Bull, Cremisius Acclasi had seen a lot of things. But he had never seen the cold, hard rage that he saw at that moment. They had come further back into Tevinter than Krem would ever have come of his own volition because Bull had received word that Dorian Pavus had been kidnapped. Krem had been suspicious of the altus when the two had begun their relationship, but time had proven that there was something real between them. Even before he’d found his own happiness with Maryden, he’d been thrilled to see Bull experience some joy and peace. But now...Krem looked down at the haughty man that lay crumpled at Bull’s feet. Now it looked like that peace was at an end.  


The Iron Bull stared down at the Venatori agent, his hands tightly clenched around the massive axe that had been a gift from Inquisitor Lavellan. “What did you say?”  


The man sneered back up at him, wiping a trail of blood away from his lip. “Dorian Pavus is dead.” He nodded to a low table a couple feet away in the magnificently appointed villa atrium. Bull motioned for Krem to go and look, and as soon as Krem saw what lay on the table, he felt his stomach sink. It was the dragontooth necklace that Dorian wore when he and Bull were together. The other half of the tooth dangled on a thick thong between what Krem had always jokingly referred to as Bull’s “Pillowy man-bosoms”. The Necklace of the Kadan. The symbol of their love. Covered in blood.  


“What is it, Krem?” Bull asked, his voice low and hard.  


Krem swallowed hard and picked the necklace up by the delicate silver chain Dorian had worn it on. “Chief…” but no further words would come.  


He knew that Bull saw it from the way that his shoulders straightened just a little bit.  


“He’s a very fine looking man,” the Venatori said. “Pity we had to flay all of that pretty skin before we-"  


Krem only saw a blur of motion and then the man’s head was rolling across the marble floor. Bull stood looking down at him, breathing heavily. “Give it to me,” he said after a moment.  


Wordlessly, Krem stepped forward and handed the necklace to his chief. Bull took it and held it in his palm before whispering: “I have to find him, Krem. I can’t just...just leave him.” His massive head bowed. “I should have been here.”  


There was nothing to say to that, so Krem simply put a hand on Bull’s shoulder and followed him deeper into the villa where the rest of the Chargers waited. They spent several hours searching, but found nothing and as the evening wore on, Krem saw uncharacteristic panic in his chief. He was about to suggest that they take a moment and regroup when he noticed something odd. There was a bookshelf in front of a blank piece of wall, and Krem could swear that he saw the dust in front of it move.  


Not wanting to get Bull’s hopes up, Krem went out and picked up some sand. He let it fall in front of the base of the shelf and immediately saw some of the grains skitter across the floor.  


“Chief!” he called, throwing his weight into the side of the heavy shelf. It moved with a grudging shriek of wood against stone and revealed a locked door.  


“What is it, Krem-”  


Krem looked back and saw Bull’s good eye narrow. Without a word he pulled out the huge axe that Inquisitor Lavellan had made for him. “Stand back, Krem,” Bull said softly. He made short work of the door and revealed a staircase that went down.  


“Let me go first, Chief,” Krem said, unsheathing his sword and readying his shield. “Just in case.”  


“I’ve got it, Krem,” Bull said, squaring his shoulders. He stumped down the stairs and Krem followed close behind, worried. They made it to the bottom of the stairs without incident, but then Krem heard an awful, broken gasp from Bull. There was an altar in the middle of the room, covered with blood and the flayed remains of a man’s body.  


“No,” Bull whispered. “NO!” He dropped his axe with a loud clatter and ran forward, dropping to his knees next to the altar. He reached up with a shaking hand, jerking it away before he could touch. He let out a single sob and Krem felt like his heart was breaking. He turned away, unable to watch and found himself looking into a dank little cell. A bundle of rags on the low cot shifted and Krem took a step forward, reaching for the flint and steel on his belt.  


“Chief-”  


“It can’t be him,” Bull said. “It _can’t_. We can’t be too late. He was never this skinny, it can’t be-”  


“Are you-are you calling me fat?”  


Bull’s head shot up, casting around wildly. He stumbled over to where Krem was standing and Krem moved out of the way.  


“Dorian!”  


The magister was lying prone on the filthy floor, his normally fine clothes in tatters. His arms and legs were tightly bound and clearly had been for awhile if the weeping wounds were any indication. One of his eyes was swollen shut, he had several days worth of stubble in the place of his usually neat mustache, and when he tried to push himself up the rags fell aside to reveal a livid wound on his torso with ugly black lines streaking out from it.  


“Amatus-” Dorian’s voice sounded thin and reedy and his words trailed off with an awful, wet cough.  


The Iron Bull sank down next to his lover, looking more lost than Krem had ever seen him look. “Shhh, Kadan, be still.”  


“I’m going to go and get Stitches, Chief,” Krem said, fumbling into the pouch at his belt and pulling out a healing potion. The recipe had been Inquisitor Lavellan’s and they were incredibly powerful. 

Bull took the potion with a hand that shook, his eyes not leaving Dorian’s drawn face.  


“I’m glad...I’m glad that I got to say-”  


“This isn’t goodbye, Kadan,” The Iron Bull said gruffly, uncorking the potion bottle and tipping it against the magister’s chapped lips.  


His heart sinking, Krem hurried off to find the healer. It didn’t look good.

####

The Iron Bull sat next to Dorian’s bed, doing his best not to pepper his healer with questions as he applied a cool cloth to his lover’s forehead. Stitches had taken one look at the ugly wound and insisted that they move Dorian to somewhere more well-ventilated and clean. They had gotten Dorian out of the fetid dungeon and into one of the sumptuous rooms on the main floor of the villa where Stitches set to work. Together they had cleaned the many wounds and once Dorian was clean, tucked him into bed with the blankets down around his waist.  


“They poisoned him, Chief,” the healer said quietly. “A nasty one. Worse than Tears of the Dead. And they put it in his gut. They wanted him to die slow.”  


The Iron Bull closed his eye, forcing down the wave of nausea. “You can save him, right Stitches?”  


The healer snorted as he gently placed one of his poultices over the abdominal wound. “That’s why you pay me all those sovereigns, Chief.” He grew serious as he gave Bull a sidelong glance. “He should be all right,” he said quietly. “He’s resting comfortably now. Nothing left for me to do but wait. I think we got to him in time. Thank the Maker Krem noticed that shelf.”  


“You’re both getting a raise,” Bull said gruffly, clapping the healer on the shoulder. Stitches winced and Bull pulled back with concern. “Are you all right?”  


“Just bruises,” Stitches said. “I’ll take a potion in a bit.”  


“Take one now,” Bull ordered. “I’ll sit with Dorian.”  


The healer gave him a relieved smile and rose with a wince. “I’ll be just down the hall,” he said. “Call me if anything changes.”  


Bull nodded and turned towards his kadan, taking his hand. Normally Dorian’s hands were almost uncomfortably warm, but it was icy. Bull felt tears begin to trickle down his face as he looked down at Dorian. There were lines he didn’t remember around Dorian’s eyes and mouth, and he would be horrified when he got hold of a mirror and saw his stubble. Tenderly Bull brushed his hair off of his forehead and gave him a soft kiss. “You’re strong, Kadan,” he whispered, resting his forehead against Dorian’s. You are going to make it.” He sat there long past when his bad knee had started to throb and ache, until he heard a soft knock on the door.  


“Chief?”  


“Come in, Krem,” Bull said, gently laying Dorian’s hand down and rising with a grunt of pain.  


His lieutenant opened the door, holding a plate with some bread and cheese on it. “You need to eat, Chief,” Krem said firmly. “You’ve been in here all night.” One of his eyebrows rose and he reached into his belt pouch and pulled out a little vial. “Take this,” he said. “It’ll help your knee.”  


Iron Bull couldn’t help but chuckle. He hated the taste of the medicine and avoided it as much as he could, but after their battle with the Venatori and his long vigil, he wasn’t about to decline. He tossed it back with a grimace and accepted the plate of food, inviting Krem to sit.  


The other man plopped down on the chair, looking over Dorian with concern. “His color is better,” Krem said quietly. “Stitches said he should be all right.” He smiled up at Bull, but Bull knew his second well enough to see his worry. “How are you holding up, Chief?” Krem asked.  


Bull let out a shuddering breath. “He’s alive,” he said. “That is what matters right now.”  


Krem nodded. “He may be a dandy,” he teased gently. “But he’s a tough dandy. Chainmail wrapped in satin, that one.”  


Bull felt his throat tighten as a wave of affection swept over him. “Krem-”  


“Consider it a favor returned,” Krem said with a warm smile, holding up his hand. His gaze flickered to Bull’s eyepatch. “You don’t need to say it, Chief. I’m just glad that he’s going to be all right.”  


Setting his plate down on the nightstand, Bull swept Krem up into a fierce hug. It surprised a squeak out of his second, but he felt Krem’s strong arms return the embrace. They stood there for a moment before Krem cleared his throat and stepped back. “You should go and lie down, Chief,” he said. “I can sit with the Magister.”  


At his words Iron Bull felt something inside of himself give way just a little bit. Krem calling Dorian “the Magister” rather than his name told Bull that his lieutenant was more worried about Bull than Dorian. The gentle teasing was meant to put him at ease. He swallowed hard past the lump in his throat. “I can’t,” he rasped.  


Krem’s brow furrowed and for a moment Bull thought that he was going to argue, but then Krem gave a brief nod and plopped down on the stool further from the bed. “Well,” he said. “If you’re going to be stubborn, we might as well play some cards.” He pulled a deck out from a pouch at his belt and shuffled, then began to deal the cards. He glanced up at Bull out of the corner of his eye and nodded to the stool closer to Dorian. “Wicked Grace or Diamondback?”  


Bull swallowed hard again and sat down heavily, wincing as his knee protested. “Diamondback,” he said roughly. “At least you’ll have some chance at keeping your dignity.”  


Krem chuckled and the two began to play, with brief pauses for Bull to check Dorian’s temperature and to give him tiny sips of water. The sun was beginning to set and he was finally relaxing when he heard a quiet whisper from the bed.  


“Please...don’t-” and then a heartbreaking whimper of fear and pain.  


Instantly Bull was on his feet, the back of his hand to Dorian’s forehead. “Kadan?”  


Dorian twitched away from his hand with another whimper. “I won’t...break,” he murmured. “Sorry...amatus.”  


Bull sank to his knees taking Dorian’s hand into his and pressing his lips to the soft, brown skin. “Shhh,” he whispered, desperately wishing he could pour his own strength into his lover. “It’s all right, Kadan, I’ve got you. You aren’t going anywhere.”  


“It’s all right, Chief,” Krem said gently, appearing at his side with a cool washcloth.  


Bull took the cloth with a hand that shook and gently dabbed at Dorian’s face and the top of his chest. Dorian twitched away from the cold, muttering softly as his brow furrowed.  


“I should have been there, Krem,” Bull said after a few minutes of silence. “They never would have been able to take him, to...hurt him if I had just-”  


“It wasn’t your fault, Chief,” Krem said firmly. “Dorian wanted to go back to Tevinter, you know that he did. We came as soon as we could.”  


In his brain, Bull knew that Krem was right, but his heart was breaking to see Dorian in such a state. He was about to ask Krem to get Stitches to check Dorian again when his kadan suddenly shifted with a grunt, his eyelids flickering.  


“Dorian?” Bull gasped. “Kadan?”  


Dorian’s lips worked and Bull leaned in, squeezing Dorian’s hand. “What is it, Kadan?”  


“You-you’re crushing my hand you great lummux,” Dorian rasped, his lips curling into a faint smile.  


Krem snorted and clapped Bull on the shoulder. “I’ll let Stitchs know his patient is awake,” he said before hurrying out of the room.  


Bull barely heard him. He relaxed his grip on Dorian’s hand and peered into his face, bringing his other hand up to trail his thumb over Dorian’s cheekbone.  


“You came for me,” Dorian whispered. He flinched. “Water?”  


Bull picked up the waterskin and held it to Dorian’s lips until he gave a weak twitch of his fingers to indicate he was done. He breathed heavily for a moment before his eyes blinked open. The moment they met Bull’s, he gave a little sob and his weakly reached up.  


Bull folded Dorian into his arms as gently as he could, resisting the urge to crush Dorian to himself as hard as he could. “I’ve got you, Kadan,” he whispered. “You’re safe.”  


Dorian clung to him, sobbing, and Bull felt the dampness of tears on his cheeks as well as he smoothed his hands up and down his lover’s back, murmuring quietly to him.  


“Is this real?” Dorian whispered.  


“If you were feeling better, I’d make sure you didn’t have to ask,” Bull teased.  


Dorian gave a wet little laugh and nuzzled into Bull’s neck. “Do you think of nothing else?” he retorted. “I haven’t forgotten that you called me fat earlier.”  


Bull forced himself to snort, even as the awful moment he thought that Dorian was the broken, flayed corpse came back to him with horrifying clarity. “Only you could be vain after being kidnapped.”  


“And tortured,” Dorian rasped. “One mustn’t forget the torture. Terrible for the skin, that.” He started to cry again and as gently as he could, Bull eased himself onto the bed behind Dorian. His kadan turned and wrapped his arms around Bull’s waist, tucking under Bull’s chin.  


“They’re dead,” Bull said, knowing that it wouldn’t fix what happened, but hoping that it helped a little.  


“I’d expect nothing less,” Dorian said. He finally pulled back and looked up at Bull, and Bull looked into his glorious eyes, saddened by the new lines at their corners. “I knew that you’d come,” he said quietly. “I knew...I knew that I just had to hold out long enough for you to find me.”  


Bull’s heart clenched and he reached into his belt pouch and pulled out the delicate chain that held Dorian’s half of the Necklace of the Kadan. “I will always find you,” he said huskily, draping it over Dorian’s neck.  


Dorian’s lovely eyes glistened with tears as he reached up and brushed his fingers over the necklace. His lips wobbled as he reached out and cupped Bull’s cheek. “Thank you, Amatus,” he whispered. He tilted his chin up and Bull could feel his lips trembling as they met Bull’s, but he kissed his kadan back tenderly, cupping his cheek. The tears had begun to fall down Dorian’s face when he pulled back. He took a shuddering breath and when he spoke again he sounded more like himself. “I could use a bath,” he said. His lips only wobbled a little as he gave Bull a long look. “And so could you,” he teased.  


Bull chuckled and gave Dorian another tender hug. His kadan was all right, that was all that mattered. They would take the time that they needed to heal...together.


End file.
